


More Than Serial Killers

by brisingrdraumar



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Graphic Fingering, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brisingrdraumar/pseuds/brisingrdraumar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Christmas interlude</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Serial Killers

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written for the Sherlock holiday card exchange for 2011 (http://xmas-xchange.livejournal.com/).

The sweat had already cooled on their bodies. From where they were lying on the floor, Sherlock could see the tiny Christmas tree that Mrs. Hudson has given them and set up on a small table that she had John move in front of the window. The small fairy lights twinkled in varying blues and whites, which were a bit at odds with the gold and red baubles on the plastic branches _(in his opinion)_ , but one never argues with Mrs. Hudson about colors—even consulting detectives. John’s breathing had already evened out and he was running his nose along Sherlock’s collar bone, a lazy swoop up and down, tracing the contours.

John’s come was drying on Sherlock’s chest and belly, and he lethargically focused on the tacky and itchy feeling and briefly calculated the odds of whether or not he could get John to lap it up—despite its rapid decrease in temperature and increase in solidity. John sighed and stopped tracing Sherlock’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder and Sherlock decided that his chance to ask had passed. Not wanting to continue on the path of lost opportunities, he ran his fingertips down the length of John’s spine and rested them in the dimples at the small of his back and circled there for a moment, gently massaging. John hummed in appreciation and Sherlock pressed harder for an instant then moved lower, lightly grazing the seam of his cleft, up and down and back again. He pressed in on a downward stroke and tapped John’s moist, swollen entrance; John huffed and buried his face in the base of Sherlock’s throat, letting a warm breath escape through his mouth in a sigh as Sherlock eased two fingers into his sensitive hole.

Sherlock wasn’t quite sure why he loved this so, why he loved to press his fingers into John after their lovemaking and feel how soft and warm he is on the inside, the muscles relaxed and wet with lube and Sherlock, but he did. In these moments he supposes he could take the time to figure out, examine himself and catalogue the reactions of his hindbrain, but, to be frank, he would rather examine John and catalogue _him_ instead. He would rather sort and stash away all of John’s minute whimpers and how, if his fingers get too close to his over-stimulated prostate, John tenses and shudders, but never moves away. John allows him this, allows him to try to rub his spilt semen into his inner walls, allows him to try to get his body to absorb that tiny bit of Sherlock DNA…allows him to try to keep some of himself inside John always. John allows him everything. And for that, Sherlock is grateful. Sherlock wants to meld them a little, and he spares a moment to lament that he can’t get John pregnant. To have a perfect blending of the two of them…a tiny specimen with a round face and curly black hair, bright blue eyes and ears that stick out a bit too far—but no one would mind them because of how adorable they would be. But the best part would be that he got to put something of himself inside John, and he would have to keep it there for most of the year. It would be so horrible when John was empty though, that he would have to fill him right back up again.

“John, if I could, I would keep you pregnant, always,” Sherlock breathed into the hair at the top of John’s head, and the answering rumbling from John’s chest echoed out and into his own, causing him to chuckle along with him.

“Imagine me waddling after you at crime scenes! What a horrifying thought! Anyway, Sherlock, if you could I would be a woman,” John managed to get out around his mirth.

“Bite your _tongue_ , Dr. Watson!” John glanced up just in time to catch the repulsed look on Sherlock’s face, which set off another round of lazy giggles.

John tilted his head up to look at Sherlock and offered a soft smile, “You don’t need me to be pregnant, Sherlock. I’ve got you inside of me always, anyway,” he said, dragging a hand down the other man’s side and tapping against the skin above Sherlock’s heart, and Sherlock marveled at how, while others would have misread and misunderstood his sentiment, John comprehended it perfectly. “Plus, with all of the times you have held yourself in me with your fingers I must have kept _some_ of it!”

Sherlock sucked in a breath, “ _Really?_ ” and he made moves to disengage from John to have a look for himself.

John grumbled and held firm, “Trust the doctor. How do you think STDs happen?” John was stretching a bit, of course, but if it kept them in this comfortable position and satisfied Sherlock, then he honestly can’t be blamed. He knew that Sherlock was well aware that he was stretching too, but John also knew that he appreciated it nonetheless.

Sherlock hummed and buried his fingers within John just a little deeper, and kept them there, stroking gently and lightly massaging. He loved the way they understood each other, he loved the way John always knows what to say to him and he loved the way that John always knows what’s inside Sherlock’s soul. But mostly he loved the way that John was able to take up residence inside his brain and occupy his mind at all times, even during the holidays when the whole world stops turning for a fortnight until after the New Year…even criminals generally took breaks in this season. John takes away his boredom and keeps him higher than any drug and for that Sherlock loves him most…even more than serial killers.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [my Tumblr](http://aconitebite.tumblr.com) if you so desire (I'm not gonna lie...it's mostly slash with the occasional cute animal and gay porn .gif).


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